


Who Seek The Skies

by quizasvivamos



Category: Glee
Genre: A little bit of everything, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anderson-Berry Twins, Blaine Anderson & Rachel Berry Are Siblings, Choose Your Own Adventure, Glee Potluck Big Bang 2020, M/M, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:21:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quizasvivamos/pseuds/quizasvivamos
Summary: Blaine and Rachel are fraternal twins, both destined for greatness. After being accepted into top music and performance colleges in the world, Juilliard and The Royal Academy of Music, both are overwhelmed with mixed feelings about their looming futures apart. The summer after graduation, they decide to take one final adventure together before they part ways and are separated by the greatest distance in their lives. As they set off to backpack along the Appalachian Trail from Pennsylvania to New York, forces beyond their control are set to alter their fate.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Comments: 21
Kudos: 20
Collections: Glee Potluck Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is my contribution to the Glee Potluck Big Bang. The gorgeous companion art was created by the always generous, talented, and lovely Riverance. Thank you to my incredible friend and beta, Amie, for going on this journey with me. 
> 
> ***Please navigate the story by following the links at the conclusion of each chapter. If you go forward with the next chapter button, the story will not make sense. I hope you have as much fun reading this story as I did while writing it!

Rachel emitted something between a shriek and a gurgle, her breath hitching as two arms flung forward to wrap around her waist, pulling her back from the cliff side. 

Stones and bits of earth tumbled down the mountain into the depths below as she caught her footing with Blaine’s assistance. Almost like a sixth sense that only twins possessed, Blaine had intuitively reached out to catch her when she slipped, gently and briefly grasping her arms before release. Even brand new Oliver Sweeney hiking boots with their perfectly intact tread weren’t enough to keep Rachel completely steady on her often clumsy feet.

She would be a triple threat, Blaine had often mused, if only she had also inherited Dad’s perfect dancer's rhythm and coordination. Rachel had a deceptively athletic build. 

In everything they did together — and that was pretty much everything —, Rachel was always at least five steps ahead of her brother. She was a natural born leader, their fathers would say. She had the chutzpah and the brilliance of a Sagittarius, always burning with the fire of a supernova and willingness to take risks. 

Five steps ahead, until she lost her balance, nearly lost her lunch, and potentially her life. 

“You okay?” Blaine said, distracted. It was a long way down the side of the verdant mountain, crowded with trees, jagged boulders, and underbrush. 

Rachel nodded, biting her lip. After her stomach had stuck a landing from its somersault, she took a deep breath and regained her composure. “This is not the tabloid-worthy celebrity death I imagined for myself.”

Blaine shook his head, stifling a laugh. 

Using her hand as a visor, despite already wearing comically large, designer sunglasses, Rachel peered out as far as she could. Her eyes fixed on nothing as her thoughts ran rampant.

“Why England, Blaine?” she nearly whined. “Tell me again why you have to go halfway ‘round the world for college. New York is certainly big enough for the both of us, trust me. You would fit in just fine at Julliard.”

“Is the result of poking a bear tabloid-worthy?” Blaine jested. He let out a long drawn out sigh. “It’s not about fitting in or going far away,” he answered, annoyed that he had to keep explaining his decision to his sister. “I just - I need to prove to myself that I can do it - on my own.” 

Rachel opened her mouth to give a rebuttal, but Blaine cut her off, already knowing what was coming next. “It’s not about you, Rach. You and I, well, we’ve done just about everything together, and you know I love you more than anyone in the world, but I need...space to grow. I need adventure.”

“Look around, Blaine. Is this not adventure enough for you?” Rachel laughed as a gust of air whipped her hair around and into her face. She sputtered as she pulled her hair from her mouth, tucking it behind her ear. “We’re hiking the Appalachian Trail, and this was certainly not on my bucket list. The credit for this is all yours.”

“It was by no means a unilateral decision,” Blaine reminded her. “My brainstorming list was compromised on several occasions. By the end, it was barely legible. At least, most of what I had written looked like the book report of a fourth grader after a strict grammarian of a teacher was through with it. You even had footnotes, Rachel. Footnotes!”

“Okay, so I might have taken the reins when I realized your method was akin to spinning in a circle blindfolded and pointing to a map. So, can you blame me?”

Blaine paused, unscrewing the cap of his canteen to take a drink. Although it was early evening, even as it began to sink, the glaring summer sun steadily beat down on them without a cloud in sight. 

“Everything has always been so regimented in our lives, perfectly planned, and I just wanted to break it all apart and throw away the rules for once.” 

Blaine sighed as he secured his canteen to his belt. He began to laugh softly at himself as he ran his fingers over his perfectly styled hair, not a curl out of place. “But who am I trying to kid? I don’t think I’m capable of it.” Blaine slid his phone from his pocket to check the time. “Look at me, with my itinerary, my maps, my phone, and my hair products even out here in the wilderness.” 

Rachel removed her sunglasses, carefully folding and zipping them away in their designated pocket in her backpack. Now getting a proper look at her twin, she said, “You’re right.”

“I’m right- about what?”

“You’re right.” Without warning, Rachel snatched Blaine’s phone from his hand and with a swift jerk of her arm launched it off the cliff side. 

Blaine stood, mouth agape in shock. 

“What did you -? What the fuck, Rachel?! You can’t just -! I need my phone for -” Blaine groaned in frustration. “Why would you do that?!” 

Arms outstretched, Blaine took a menacing step toward Rachel, but she dodged him. Fueled by adrenaline and like a magician with sleight of hand, she withdrew her own phone from her pocket and sent it flying through the air to suffer a similar fate.

“ _Yeet!_ ”

Blaine felt like a stone statue heavily bolted to the ground, immobilized in shock, mouth agape and staring dumbly. 

Blaine screwed up his face. “I can’t believe you just yelled ‘yeet’!” he finally said. “That was so out of character for you. I mean, now neither of us has a phone! I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, the voice of reason. Now what are we supposed to do if there’s an emergency?!”

“There’s hardly any service out here anyway, Blaine.” 

Hands on her hips, Rachel nonchalantly turned to gaze across the valley toward the horizon. The last rays of the quickly dying sun dimly lit up the land around them, and she quickly searched for a spot to settle down for the night, pivoting slowly. 

“There,” she pointed, stirring Blaine. 

“Huh?” Blaine turned around, registering a small area where the ground was mostly flat and lacked foliage. 

“That’s where we’re going to camp out tonight. No tent, just you and I, out here in the wilderness, under the stars.” 

“And what about bugs? And Wild animals?” Blaine crossed his arms and shot Rachel a skeptical look, though his pulse quickened just at the thought of it. 

“We’ll build a fire,” she responded, feeling emboldened. “Isn’t that what people are supposed to do in situations like this?” 

“Sure, a fire, in the middle of a forest. What could possibly go wrong? I’ll build a fire, alright,” Blaine said, “so I can send smoke signals.” 

“No time to waste with your sarcasm, Blaine.” Rachel freed her arms from her straps, allowing the bag to fall with a thud in the dirt. She rubbed her hands together, feeling crazy now but not unlike she felt when onstage with the spotlight solely on her. “You said you wanted this, so this is what we’re doing. No more script, we’re improvising.” 

Blaine’s knuckles had turned white as he gripped the straps of his bag. Realizing the immense tension in his body, he took a deep breath, relaxing, and followed suit, sliding his backpack off and to the ground. 

“You’re right.” 

“I always am.” Rachel playfully air booped him on the nose before turning away again. 

Blaine flexed his fingers, not making eye contact. “I asked for this, and I can’t chicken out now. Courage, right? Isn’t that what Dads always say?”

“Only to you,” Rachel quipped. “Their pep talks with me are much different.” She bent down to pick up a few sticks, walking a few paces from their belongings. 

“Regardless,” Blaine rolled his eyes, following her lead and absentmindedly picking up sticks and dried brush, “we still have maps, an itinerary, and plenty of food and personal care items. I think we can survive.”

Rachel perked up. “Thank you for reminding me!”

This time, Blaine successfully tackled Rachel, stopping her in her path of madness. “Nope! Not gonna happen.”

She struggled in his grasp, breaking free and pushing him away. “Fine,” Rachel huffed, straightening up and brushing herself off. “Let’s finish collecting our firewood. The sunlight is fleeting. We haven’t much time to build a fire before we’re swallowed up by darkness and completely susceptible to nature’s whims.”

“You get the wood,” Blaine said, reaching down to lift a small boulder. “I’m going to build a barrier to increase our chances of not starting a devastating fire and dying a horrible, fiery death while we sleep.” He rolled the large rock toward a central area in the clearing. 

Within minutes and with little precious daylight to spare, the twins had built a makeshift fire pit with perfectly teepeed wood prime for lighting. As the sun sank over the mountains, the temperature dropped drastically, and both were relieved when they finally managed to spark a flame that soon grew into a proper fire. 

They shared a celebratory high five and threw their arms around each other in a brief embrace. 

Rachel’s bright grin was illuminated by the warm light from the fire. “Once again, we have risen to a challenge -“

“- and kicked its ass,” Blaine finished her sentence, his own smile rivaling hers. “I believe this is where Figgins would say ‘achievement’.”

But Rachel was no longer listening as she set to work laying out her sleeping bag and pillow and climbing partially inside, all of what she had done finally setting in in the darkness. 

She was suddenly too anxious to lay down and try to sleep. A feeling of imminent danger and helplessness overwhelmed her, and she drew her knees to her chest, hugging her legs closely to her body. 

“This is all my fault,” she blurted, beginning to panic. “We should turn back, go home. I want to sleep in my own bed where a bear can’t eat me.” 

Blaine, who had finally felt a sense of calm in their current situation was startled. “What -? We’re doing fine, Rach. Why the sudden change of heart? We still have maps and everything else we need,” he tried to reassure her.

“Well, actually…”

“No, Rachel, you didn’t…”

“How did you not notice the paper I used for kindling, Blaine? Sometimes you are so clueless. We’re officially off book, Blaine.” 

Feeling his pulse begin to race again, Blaine desperately worked to ground himself and push the wave of panic away. 

“No, it’s okay,” he said more to himself. “We are going to be okay. Let’s see…” he patted his pockets as if something might magically materialize that could get them out of the catastrophic mess they created.

A compass would have been an excellent tool to have brought along, he thought, kicking himself for his gross oversight. After racking his brain for any and all practical skills he vaguely remembered from his time in Boy Scouts, he thought about sunrises and sunsets and how they at least had something to go off of direction-wise. 

First, sleep, he thought. They would get a fresh start in the morning. After all, they would need the sun to rise before they could move forward at all. 

Hanging on to that thread of hope, Blaine climbed supine into his sleeping bag and stared into the open starlit skies. It looked surreal, like one of those Hubble Telescope galaxy photographs, the multitude of lights and deep violets, indigos, and inky hues swirling in infinity.

“You know, this is really beautiful,” Rachel said with a sigh, finally relaxing into her sleeping bag. She laid face skyward, her arms folded beneath her head. 

“It is.” Blaine breathed deeply, filling his lungs with fresh mountain air, his eyes closing for a moment. 

Shifting, he rolled to his side, using his elbow to prop his head on his hand and fixing his gaze on Rachel. 

“But, seriously, Rachel. Was it necessary to throw our phones off the side of a mountain? What about all our contacts and photos?”

She waved her hand above her as if shooing a fly. “Everything’s in the Cloud. Nothing to worry about. When we return to civilization, we can purchase new phones.”

“They’re on a payment plan,” Blaine said. “Dad and Dad are going to commit a double homicide when they find out.”

“Oops?” Rachel offered weakly. “That’s what insurance is for, I guess.”

A streak of light cut through the dark sky, catching the attention of both twins, who promptly ended their conversation. 

They laid there in silent awe for a few beats.

“I never thought I would ever see a shooting star,” Blaine spoke softly, almost as if his voice might shatter the magic of the moment. 

“Neither did I,” Rachel said. “Should we make a wish?”

Blaine took a moment to respond. “We could, but don’t you think that’s a little silly at our age?”

“Maybe a little. But what could it hurt?”

* * *

—> [They make a wish. ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109748/chapters/63511660)

OR

—> [They decide it’s too silly of a notion.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109382/chapters/63511849#workskin)


	2. Chapter 2

Blaine swallowed, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s already passed. We’re a little late for a wish. Nothing is going to happen anyway.” 

Disappointed, Rachel sank down into her sleeping bag, the sound of nighttime insects screeching suddenly deafening as they both laid there not speaking. 

Not wanting to admit that he was already brainstorming wishes in his head, Blaine felt slightly guilty for shutting down Rachel. But wishes were always something personal to him. And, although they’d just shared a once in a lifetime experience, this wish was something he wanted all to himself.

Rachel rolled over in indignance to face away from her brother. When she wanted something a certain way, she hadn’t cared what he thought, much like with most things. Not to say that she never took Blaine’s feelings into account, but Rachel had a way of always doing things exactly as she desired. 

And right now, she was going to make a wish on that shooting star. 

Blaine closed his eyes.

Rachel closed her eyes. 

_I wish for something magical to happen so we can survive this trip._

_I wish to become someone unforgettable._

There was an audible simultaneous exhalation from both twins, though neither heard the other over the nocturnal chittering of creatures and insects and the crackling of the campfire. 

“Do you hate me?” Rachel spoke softly, breaking the silence. “Because I would hate me, after what I’ve done,” she began to ramble. “I only wanted our last summer together to be unforgettable -”

“Rachel, stop. Please,” Blaine added, realizing he'd sounded a bit harsh. “Hate is a strong word. I don’t think I’ve hated a single thing or person in my life. Do you think that after everything we’ve been through together growing up that this would be the thing that broke the camel’s back? Do I feel majorly stressed and inconvenienced? Yes. Do I believe that what you did is going to end in our demise? I hope not.” He let out a dry laugh. “I suppose hope is the key word here. So, no, I don’t hate you. I’m just grateful that we still have each other to get ourselves out of this mess -- together.” 

Rachel sighed deeply, turning back over to face Blaine, the reflection of warm flickering flames dancing in her eyes. 

“I know this is going to sound crazy, but I don’t regret what I did.”

“Regret and shame are wasted emotions,” Blaine said. “And you never struck me as someone to feel either.” 

“I’m not sure how to take that, but I’m going to ignore any negative implications and take your words at face value. You know I’ll fight like hell to get us out of this situation, because I didn’t fight to get into Juilliard just to die before I even got to New York City.”

“Manhattan would weep and not know for whom it was crying,” Blaine said. “I can’t imagine depriving Broadway of its next biggest star, Ms. Rachel Anderson-Berry.”

“But I might drop the ‘Anderson’,” she said, almost a whisper, ironically feeling shame for admitting it.

“Huh? Why?” Blaine asked simply.

“It’s long and forgettable. A stage name should be easily recognizable and succinct. Rachel Berry,” she said, listening to how each syllable sounded together. “I know it feels like some sort of betrayal to Dad for cutting him out, but only in letters, not in spirit. I will always be Rachel Anderson-Berry, just not to the larger public.” Rachel shifted, turning her face to the sky. “I guess you’re not the only one in need of a little self-reinvention.” 

“I think Dad would understand,” Blaine said softly. “After all, he always encouraged us to grow in whatever ways we needed to. And, hey, you can look at it as the next big role in your life, ‘Rachel Berry’, Tony-award-winning Broadway Star -”

“- of stage and screen,” Rachel added.

“- of stage and screen,” Blaine corrected himself. “Would it be weird if I dropped ‘Berry’...?”

Rachel felt suddenly saddened at the thought. “Oh, Blaine...I don’t want that for us. To lose our identity...it would feel like we weren’t siblings anymore. If we have separate last names, our future fans might see us together and speculate that we’re dating!”

“That’s outrageous,” Blaine said. “You know that they’d just believe you were my beard.”

They both laughed in spite of themselves. 

“Yeah, you’re not fooling anyone,” Rachel teased.

“Thank god I’m not in the closet anymore.” Blaine paused thoughtfully. “‘Blaine Anderson’,” he said almost to himself. “It does flow so much better, you have to admit.”

Rachel looked at her brother, fighting back welling tears that threatened to escape. She swallowed hard, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile. She gently touched his hand, relieved when he took hold of hers. “It’s okay to grow and change.”

“I know,” Blaine said. 

“Just promise me you won’t grow apart from me.”

“I promise.”

“Because no matter how extravagant my dreams are, they always involve you being there by my side through it all.”

“I know,” Blaine said, a lump forming in his throat. 

With the warmth of the fire washing over her body and exhaustion from the day settling heavily within her, Rachel closed her eyes and sank into the comfort of her sleeping bag. 

She gave his hand a squeeze. “Sweet dreams, Blaine.”

“Good night, Rach.”

Sleep overcame the twins as soon as they settled down, hands entwined between their resting bodies. 

They would rouse to the sun shortly after dawn, the fire’s embers glowing ever so faintly and the smell of smoke wafting above their heads, clinging to their clothing, hair, and backpacks. The chittering of the creatures that resided in the wooded mountains filled the air, reminding the twins that it was time to get up and start moving once more. 

* * *

→ [Onward](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109382/chapters/63512155#workskin)


	3. Chapter 3

Following the direction of the sun seemed like a flawless plan at the time of conception, however, implementing that plan was far more difficult than Blaine had imagined it might be. 

While he had spent years of his life learning about the techniques of survival and earning badges related to public service, being faced with a situation in which using those techniques meant life or death made it all too real, and he began to doubt his knowledge and abilities. 

But he couldn’t allow Rachel to see that he was struggling to compose himself. After all, he was determined to be the rock in this situation, to prove to Rachel that he could lead as well as she. 

“This way,” Blaine said hesitantly, squinting as he tried to peer through the branches of the trees. 

“Are you sure?” Rachel finally asked, hitching her bag higher up on her back. “Because that was hardly convincing. 

“No, not at all,” Blaine admitted. “God, this would be so much easier if we had a map,” he said, side-eyeing his sister. 

“You and I have never backed down from a challenge before,” Rachel said.

“This is more like a suicide mission, Rach.” Blaine took a few steps forward, pausing to examine a mark seemingly made by an animal in the bark of a tree. “One wrong move, and we’re goners.”

“What happened to us ‘kicking ass’?” she said. “Chin up, little brother -”

“We’re the same age.”

“ - I was born first. Regardless,” she continued without missing a beat, “you need to have more confidence in yourself. Yes, our current situation is less than ideal -”

Blaine shot her a cynical look.

“- Our situation seems hopeless,” she corrected herself, “but I know just the thing to help us through this.”

“And what is that, pray tell?”

“A song!”

Blaine wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry or both, but he couldn’t refute the fact that music had always gotten him and his sister through tough times in their lives. It wasn’t the kind of magic he’d hoped for, but there was at least a soothing and healing quality in singing that no situation could stifle. 

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Blaine said after a moment. “I think I’ve got a little something up my sleeve.” 

“The stage is yours,” Rachel said, bowing and holding her arms as if to present a performer.

Blaine sang a few lines of a Hozier song that had been intruding on his thoughts. It came out slow and sad, like a ballad, the natural cry in his voice haunting. 

_I once kneeled in shaking thrill_

_I chase the memory of it still, of every chill_

_Chided by that silence of a hush sublime_

_Blind to the purpose of the brute divine_

_But you were mine_

_Staring in the blackness at some distant star_

_The thrill of knowing how alone we are, unknown we are_

_To the wild and to the both of us_

_I confessed the longing I was dreaming of_

_Some better love, but there's no better love_

“Bravo! Encore! Encore!” Rachel applauded with unbridled enthusiasm. 

“Thank you, but I don’t think -”

The earth rumbled beneath their feet, causing both to grab onto the nearest objects as if to anchor themselves; a rotted out stump and Blaine’s waist. 

After what felt like several minutes, their world grew still again. 

“Was that -”

“- an earthquake?” Rachel finished his sentence. “In Pennsylvania?”

“Climate change,” Blaine offered, gently releasing the strangle Rachel had on his ribcage. “That was intense.”

She wore an apologetic look. “And a little terrifying.”

“Listen,” Blaine said suddenly. 

“Huh?”

Blaine placed a finger to his lips to shush Rachel. 

“Do you hear that?”

“It sounds a little like -”

“Running water,” Blaine said. 

“I can’t tell what direction it’s coming from,” Rachel said. 

After a few moments of listening and walking to and fro aimlessly, Blaine conceded, “Neither can I.” 

Then, holding a trembling finger outward, Rachel swallowed hard. “Can you see that, too? Or am I going -”

“Crazy. That’s the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen,” Blaine said. “Must be a trick of the light…” He stepped toward what appeared to be a floating luminescent orb, and jumped with a yelp when it bounced through the air a few feet, pausing to hover again midair. 

It danced in front of them as if beckoning for them to come closer. It wasn’t a harsh light, but a soft, comforting light emanating from a mid space between trees. 

Rachel could feel the hair on her skin rising with the goosebumps covering her body. She watched half awe-struck and half in horror as Blaine chased the light again, and it lept back as he tried to grab it with both hands.

Blaine clutched at air, nearly tumbling forward to the ground. Something about this light made him feel as if it was there to guide him out of the predicament they were in. 

“We should follow this light,” he thought aloud, turning back to gauge Rachel’s reaction, not expecting to see her frozen to the same spot she was standing when they first saw the light. “Rachel!” he called out, gesturing for her to join him. “What’s wrong?”

“It doesn’t seem right,” she said, her voice shaking. “You should come back here, Blaine. Leaving the path doesn’t seem like a very good idea.” 

Blaine glanced down, realizing only then that it had led him into an area untouched by hikers. Reluctantly, he returned to where Rachel stood, afraid that when he’d turned his back the light had disappeared. 

But when he peered back into the trees, it still drifted there, closer again to the path as if it had followed him, taunting him. 

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Blaine said, feeling like he’d regained his senses. “I guess my curiosity is getting the best of me.”

“Have you ever heard of a floating orb of light that moves as if it has a mind of its own? I mean, I don’t believe in ghosts, but if I did, I would probably think that that was some sort of spirit.”

“Well, if I had my phone, I could look up natural phenomena that could possibly explain it,” Blaine sneered, crossing his arms.

Rachel raised a precisely aimed middle finger.

Unfazed, Blaine caught a glimpse of the light again out of the corner of his eye and felt an odd tug in the pit of his stomach. He shivered to shake the feeling from his body.

“It was against your better judgment to throw our phones to their deaths, and it’s my turn to go against better judgment. I want to follow the light.”

“Wait a minute, Blaine,” Rachel said. “We’ve seen enough horror films, and following this glowing ghost-like orb is akin to following a noise down into a basement when you know there’s a monster in there.” 

“Well, unless you’re okay continuing on alone…”

“Blaine, I really don’t think…” Rachel cut herself off as she fixed her gaze on the orb again. She could have sworn she heard a calming whisper from its direction, but her mind must be playing tricks on her. 

* * *

-> [ They follow the strange light. ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109382/chapters/63512779#workskin)

OR

-> [ They decide to stay on the path. ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109748/chapters/63513298#workskin)


	4. Chapter 4

“I’ve trusted you up to this point, and I guess it can’t be much worse than navigating via the sun,” Rachel spoke slowly. “Let’s do it.”

Blaine didn’t know why he felt like following a strange light was a good idea, but his mind was set, and without further hesitation, he walked toward it once more. 

“How long were you even a Boy Scout anyway?” she teased.

“Rachel, you were at my Eagle Scout Court of Honor ceremony in May.”

“Oh, well...with prom, voice recitals, planning for graduation, and the spring musical, it’s all a blur,” she said hurriedly, ticking each off on her fingers, in an attempt to cover up her mistake. Rachel was realizing just how much was packed into the end of senior year.

“That hurts,” Blaine said with candor. “I spent months on my service project, and you were involved in some of it.”

“I’m sorry.” Rachel really did feel remorse. She must have been so concerned about herself that she didn’t realize just how much more work Blaine was putting in on top of all they were doing together. 

“Please tell me you remember my speech at graduation,” Blaine said.

“Of course I do!” she said defensively. “You were the class president since middle school -” Rachel paused, careful not to misspeak again, “- and the valedictorian.”

“Doesn’t matter now,” Blaine said, changing the subject. “None of our past achievements are going to make any difference if we don’t figure out a way to survive this. You know, this was supposed to be a vacation, but now it feels like a massive practical joke at my expense. But, anyway, let’s move forward.”

And they did, through foliage that grew thicker the deeper they went into the woods and farther they strayed from the path. As they chased this dancing ball of light, the sound of running water turned into rushing water, and both Blaine and Rachel’s breath hitched as the trees opened up to reveal a dazzling waterfall. 

It appeared to be falling from a tall, obelisk-shaped rock face that rose about twenty feet or so. The source of the water was difficult to determine; nonetheless, it was a sight to behold for two weary travelers. Before them was a round, dark pool, the depth of which was impossible to tell.

There was a splash in the small spring into which the waterfall emptied, drawing both twins’ attention to a troubled spot in the water’s surface. 

Blaine threw an arm up to shield Rachel and jumped back as a head and unclothed torso bobbed up from beneath the deep shadowed waters. 

Unable to conceive exactly what he was looking at, Blaine’s brain finally caught up when the completely nude backside of a human-like being arose from the water, defying gravity as it drifted into the air and settled onto a nearby rock on the opposite bank. 

It was turned away, combing kelp from its hair with its fingers, and did not seem to notice them there.

Blaine’s heart was pounding, his body going berserk as he took in the ghostly pale, tall, slender, strikingly naked male form.

Its skin was as smooth as the stone upon which it sat, somehow hard and glossy like armor yet fluid like the water that held its reflection below.

He felt like he was intruding, his face burning, and his embarrassment growing as his pants grew tighter, his skin becoming slick with perspiration. Was it adrenaline? Or something else? 

Fight or flight should have kicked in, but amidst the uncomfortable feeling of being a voyeur was inexplicably a feeling of calm and that same comforting allure that accompanied the orb that had brought them there. 

Blinking hard, Blaine realized that the guiding light had vanished. But the male form was still very solid and very much there, its eyes now slowly meeting his, growing wide in surprise at the sight of its onlookers. 

Blaine was about to shout a more than likely garbled apology, but he choked on his words as the unblinking, icy blue-green eyes bore into him as if they could see his soul, and suddenly he felt just as exposed as the being of the water. 

“Pardon,” it spoke, its voice a pleasant soprano. “Unless the sun has been unkind to you, I’m going to assume that scarlet is not your natural color.”

Rachel had closed her eyes and covered her face in an attempt to respect the privacy of what she believed to be a skinny dipper, her entire body trembling when she heard his voice. 

The creature slid from the rock, took a few gliding steps toward the reeds, twirled around once, and was now adorned in delicate robes composed of vibrant water lilies in an array of colors and verdant moss as sheer as chiffon.

Its gown-like, ethereal garb was open in the front, exposing a smooth, toned, masculine chest, and was cinched at its slender waist, closed only by the groin and covering just enough to be socially decent; in its wake was a long train that moved as if it was composed of a sheet of morning dew and glowed with soft light as if suspended in time beneath the dawning sun. It looked as if it had been plucked off the runway of an Elie Saab fashion show and dusted with divine essence. 

Blaine had been so transfixed on the creature that he hadn’t noticed the dark water turn crystalline the moment the being no longer made contact with the pool. 

“I always seem to forget how full of shame humans are when it comes to flesh,” it said more to itself. “This should be more appealing,” the creature addressed them again. “It’s okay to look now,” it said with a playful giggle.

Rachel peeked through a small gap in her fingers before slowly dropping her hands to her side. What she saw was something out of only the most flamboyant mind on Broadway or the creative mind of a haute couture designer, and she stood there in disbelief that any man would be prancing around in the wilderness alone scantily clothed solely by the nature around him. 

“Who are you, and what are you doing out here?” she said, feeling now like they were wasting precious time and should be getting back to the hiking trail. “Because, unless you can kindly point us in the direction of civilization, then we should be on our way.”

“Guiding is a specialty of mine,” it said. “Honey, I could ask you the same thing, after all, you’re the one who stumbled upon me bathing in my own home. But, my apologies. I am known sometimes as Kurt. And this,” it gestured toward the crystal spring, “is where I live.”

Rachel began to snicker but caught herself when she saw the soft, reverential expression on her brother’s face. 

She breathed a revelatory, “Oh,” and chose silence in one of the rarest occasions of her life. 

Whatever ‘Kurt’ was, Blaine knew it was a supernatural being who was affecting him in a way he couldn’t comprehend. The creature’s voice was like a song with a familiar quality, soothing and welcoming, of some distant time, that rests just on the tip of the tongue and manages to forever elude one who attempts to recall by reconnecting broken synapses, but that just couldn’t be placed. 

“We could use some guidance,” Blaine said, still unable to break eye contact. “Do you know the way? Back to the trail, I mean?”

Regardless of the creature’s supernatural aspect, Blaine was physically drawn to him. Save for the digitally altered models depicted in magazines, his beauty was incomparable, and he couldn’t help but want to get closer to him. 

“I know a way,” Kurt began. “But with a caveat, if I may. It is not direct, and it is not easy. You may want to turn back, you may feel as if you can’t possibly go on, but taking that path will take you exactly where you’re meant to go.”

Blaine always felt the need to understand and to analyze, which was why he performed so well in school and in the many theaters of his life. And not knowing Kurt or what he was was a puzzle that Blaine needed more pieces to and was determined to figure out. 

Blaine swallowed hard. “Why are you so willing to help us?”

Accessing his knowledge of mythology and lore from various works of fiction he’d read for school and for pleasure was currently proving to be difficult considering the beautiful distraction presenting itself. If he had had someone so marvelous and gorgeous in his classes, he thought he never would have been able to do so well in school. But perhaps he wouldn’t have cared. 

Kurt glided through the air, sending ripples over the water, and came to land just mere feet from Blaine. He took two soft steps forward, his face now inches from Blaine’s. Those entrancing eyes were searching his face, and Blaine could feel and smell his sweet, floral breath when he spoke again. 

“It’s in my nature.” 

Being at odds with himself was as commonplace to him as being at odds with Rachel. It was true that they were often a dynamic duo, working together like a well-oiled machine, complementing each other, but Rachel always had to take control and one-up Blaine in everything they did - unless he found something that was just for him that she couldn’t touch. Most of the time it was things that simply didn’t interest her, like Boy Scouts and college abroad and gay boys. 

“What do I have to do?” Blaine said breathlessly. 

All things considered, Blaine wanted to buy himself as much time as possible with Kurt so he could properly define this enigma and feel more grounded in his reality. And all things considered, Blaine selfishly wanted Kurt to be one of those just-for-him things. 

The creature caressed Blaine’s face before placing a firm but soft palm against his cheek. His fingertips rested at Blaine’s temple, causing his eyes to fall shut momentarily. 

“Follow me.”

“Wait a minute, Blaine -” Rachel interrupted, calling his name a few times when he didn’t respond before soon realizing that Blaine couldn’t hear her. It was as if he was under a spell, trapped in a strangely intimate moment, and her words of reason would only fall on deaf ears. 

“Where?”

Kurt removed his hand from Blaine’s cheek, his index finger now outstretched in the direction of the waterfall. 

* * *

—> [Blaine complies. ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109382/chapters/63513655)

OR

—> [Blaine declines the invitation.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109748/chapters/63513961)


	5. Chapter 5

Mesmerized and yearning to be touched again, Blaine nodded.

Rachel stood by as her brother was lured by this angelic creature, and when Blaine stepped off the bank and into the water, red flags rose furiously in her head. 

She knew it was futile. Blaine’s mind was set, and her opinion could not change his strong desire to follow a beautiful man-beast, and she knew she would probably do the same if she were in his position. 

As dangerous as blindly following the creature seemed, there was an allure in the danger and chance of forbidden romance, the kind that even Rachel craved on her loneliest days. 

She couldn’t pretend that she was immune to the fantasy of an Edward Cullen-like being and allowing herself to be swept up in emotion and physicality, throwing caution and reason to the wind. The passion and drama that could unfold in its wake was temptation enough to hop aboard and ride this train to its destination.

Torn by selfish reason in one direction and selfish, mindless desire in the other, Rachel followed Blaine as he waded through the pool toward the sheet of water tumbling over the rock face. 

Blaine never sank past his knees as he walked through the spring. Close in tow, Rachel took the same path through, her foot suddenly slipping as her entire body fell backward as if the ground beneath her had dissolved. With a piercing yelp, she went crashing down into the water, falling deep beneath its surface. 

Her first instinct was to open her eyes, but they burned when she did, and it was as dark as if the sunlight had suddenly been sucked from the skies that it was impossible to make out what was up and what was down. 

Panic set in as she kicked her feet and flailed in slow motion noiselessly in her liquid prison.

Rachel’s shriek followed by the splash broke Blaine’s attention from Kurt, and he turned quickly to see her get swallowed up by the still waters. 

“Rachel!” he cried out, falling to his knees in the spring, scooping desperately at the impossibly shallow water where she had sunk. 

“What just happened?! What have you done?!” Blaine accused, turning to Kurt, who appeared unfazed and without intention to act. “What are you doing?! You need to help her!” he pleaded. 

Rachel felt her lungs quickly bloating as she became lightheaded and disoriented. The weight of her backpack pulled her down like a cinder block bound to her back as she struggled to unlatch the clasps and free herself, but failed. 

Overcome with a sense of hopelessness and dread, her limbs grew tired and numb. 

She was going to drown, her brain told her. Death was imminent. 

Rachel’s bag finally came undone, sliding from her shoulders and sinking soundlessly.

“Oh,” Kurt said as if he’d just now heard Blaine talking. “When I offered my guidance, it was to _you_. Paths like the one I’m taking you on are meant to be walked alone.”

“But -” he gasped “she’s my sister! I’m not leaving her behind for some strange - I don’t know what I would do without her. Losing her would be like losing a part of myself. You can’t let her die!”

“When a god extends an invitation, only then can a mortal enter and see what lies ahead. If I save her, know that there will be consequences,” Kurt warned. “There is room for only one where we’re headed, and if you say she is a part of you, then a part of you she shall stay. Is that what you truly want?”

“Yes! Please! Just save her,” Blaine begged on his knees, tears streaking his face as he shook uncontrollably, soaked from head to toe. He’d never felt so pathetic and vulnerable and helpless. 

With a flourish of his hand, Kurt said, “So be it.”

Back up from the depths rose a gasping, coughing, sputtering, drenched Rachel, her clothing glued to her slick skin and stretched over her petite, frail-looking frame. She gave a pained cry as oxygen reinflated and burned her lungs. 

Blaine’s arms were around Rachel within seconds, catching her from tumbling over weakly into the water again. Afraid he would lose her, he held her heaving body close to his, managing only a whisper as he uttered in her ear, “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay,” repeating it like a mantra until her body calmed and he eventually believed it. He brushed her sopping hair from her face, her head falling to rest on his shoulder. 

“Rach-?” Feeling the heavy weight of her limp body propped against him brought on another wave of panic.

“She’s alive,” Kurt said, answering an unasked question. “You insisted on bringing her along, so what are you waiting for?” He beckoned Blaine forward. “Oh,” he added, almost an afterthought, “I suggest you leave your bag behind. You won’t need it. And we certainly don’t need any more dead weight holding you back.”

Blaine had nearly forgotten his bag which he had set down on the bank by some reeds. He glanced back and knew that he hadn’t the strength to carry both his sister and the oversized, over packed backpack. Grateful that his canteen was clipped to his belt, he accepted the loss.

With as much care as he could muster, Blaine bent his knees and hoisted his sister up and over his shoulders, catching his breath and leaning forward before pressing on toward the waterfall with Kurt. He had only had to carry her like this one other time before after a night of debauchery at a particularly raucous cast party, and now that he had her, he wasn’t sure how long he could bear her weight. 

Blaine wanted to believe so badly that he wasn’t making the worst decision of his life. Rachel was alive, and for that he couldn’t be more grateful, but sudden reservations struck him like low-hanging branches, each blow harder with each step he took. 

But he carried the weight of his choices. Blaine wanted to believe that Kurt was a benevolent god or nature spirit or whatever he was. Blaine wanted to believe. 

The rushing water doused Rachel and cascaded over his head and shoulders as he passed under and through it, cool and foamy on his skin.

As he crossed the threshold, Blaine felt as if every molecule and cell in his body had dissociated and they were rearranging themselves. Eyes squeezed tightly shut at the incredible sensation, like a rollercoaster ride he regretfully wanted to end, Blaine flexed his fingers, still feeling the weight of his sister’s body. When he felt as if he was on solid ground again, he took a few deep, steadying breaths, and the world around him fell silent. 

* * *

→ [Onward](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109382/chapters/63514411)


	6. Chapter 6

Feeling like he’d just crawled across the finish line of a triathlon, Blaine squatted before promptly teetering and falling to his knees. He slid Rachel into his lap, watching her closely and checking for vital signs. He could feel and see her body shift with each breath, and he filled and emptied his lungs again and again, but the soft sounds of breath were lost to him. It felt as if he was in a vacuum where no sound could travel. 

He felt the vibrations of his rapidly beating heart knocking against his rib cage, and his eyelids grew heavy as if sandbags had been tethered to them, closing as he succumbed. 

A soft yet masculine hand tenderly cupped his cheek again, fingertips grazing skin as if charged with static electricity, and his eyes shot open. He gasped, nearly dropping his sister, who finally began to stir as she regained consciousness.

No one was there. 

Blaine wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. They were in a forest, not much different from where they’d come. But something felt different in a way he couldn’t put words to. What struck him most was the way the woods were mysteriously illuminated in the absence of a sun or moon. 

And then a hand shot up weakly and smacked him in the face.

Startled, Blaine met Rachel’s eyes, which looked crazy and unfocused. Then he noticed her mouth was moving, but no sound came out.

Rachel’s fingers closed around his forearm as he looked around wildly at the world around him, vivid and solid and he could feel life forms thrumming around him, but he heard nothing. No voices, no birds singing, no insects chirping, or frogs croaking. No rustling of leaves as he felt a breeze blow through. 

It wasn’t a vacuum. He had gone deaf. 

Hot tears began to streak Blaine’s face when he failed to produce any sound with his voice, realizing that he might never hear the comforting sound of a familiar voice or music ever again. 

Rachel finally stopped speaking when he never responded and she heard and felt heavy sobs wracking Blaine’s body. Her grip on Blaine tightened. 

She knew two things were certain: she was alive, and her vision was completely gone. Her brother was the only thing anchoring her to the unknown around her. When she’d opened her eyes, all was dark.

Yet, it was the way her brother held her, the way he smelled, and his voice that she knew he was still there for her. She dug her fingernails gently into Blaine’s arm, once again regaining his attention. 

“I’m sorry,” she heard him mumble. “All my fault.”

“No,” she attempted to correct him, though he continued to ramble almost incoherently over her. That’s when she realized he couldn’t hear her. 

Her sudden blindness made her more hesitant than she’d ever been in her life, but she could hear everything and feel texture and temperature and the heat and movement of animate bodies around her. 

Rachel fought to orient herself, climbing to her feet with as much grace as a newborn foal. It wasn’t enough to feel a firmness beneath her hiking boots, which along with her wet socks were beginning to chafe her damp skin, so she slowly removed them, discarding them beside her. Sinking her toes into cool soil, the grass tickling her ankles, she breathed in deeply, catching hints of floral and wood, clean and crisp, not overly earthy or rotten. 

“We’re still in the forest,” she thought aloud.

Blaine sniffled as he watched Rachel stand rooted to the earth, resembling a yogi performing the start of a sun salutation. Her eyes were closed, and he went to her, stirring her from her meditation when he took her hand. 

But when she looked at him, it was like she was staring straight through him, her mouth moving again with what looked like his name. That’s when he knew she couldn’t see him. 

“Blaine?” She said.

“Yes,” he reassured her, squeezing her hand. 

A third voice cut through both their consciousness, causing Blaine to yell out and hold his head as if in anguish. 

Like a devious Cheshire Cat, Kurt materialized in front of the twins, and Blaine grew hot with anger, ready to demand answers now.

“You’re wondering why my voice is the only thing you can hear,” Kurt said, though his mouth was motionless. And then his lips moved, yet out of sync with his words. 

“You’re inside my head,” Blaine said, his hands still covering his ears. “Is this some sort of punishment? Did you make my sister blind?”

“I told you that only one mortal may cross over into this realm, and you insisted on bringing a second, so you can only exist here as you wished - as parts of a whole.” 

What kind of cursed realm was this, Blaine wondered, where this self-proclaimed god - of what, water? - would take advantage of two lost siblings and strip them of their senses? Bits and pieces of lore surfaced in his mind, and it became obvious that he had committed a cardinal sin when dealing with deities and the supernatural. He made a deal and changed the rules. 

Blaine couldn’t pretend he hadn’t been given fair warning, and he was still fool enough to follow Kurt like a sailor to a siren. Had he truly been duped? Or was it his own hubris and teenage libido that got him into this mess? 

“You’ve been wondering where I’ve led you and where you’re going. There is no easy answer to that. You see, it will be up to you to complete your journey toward your destination. I am here as a spiritual guide, to keep you from straying from the path.” 

Rachel tugged on Blaine’s pant leg, now kneeling in the dirt, pointing to something she had carved into the earth with her finger. 

It was a crude drawing of a male face, his mouth open and from it flew music notes. Blaine was amazed that she was able to communicate and depict what she had without her vision, but it wouldn’t be enough to attempt to interpret hieroglyphics in the dirt every time she had something to tell him. 

Rachel pointed to the drawing and then to her own ears, and it clicked inside Blaine’s head. 

From the moment Kurt opened his mouth to speak, all Rachel could hear was an odd sort of music, yet Blaine was responding as if he understood it as language. 

“She can’t hear me like you can,” Kurt explained. “I granted you permission to go on your journey. I am your guide, not hers.”

“Rachel,” Blaine began slowly, using muscle memory to match how the words sounded in his head, “I’m going to need you to be my ears. Listen carefully.”

Rachel nodded. 

“When you were unconscious, we passed through the waterfall into a mirror world. Only it’s not quite like our world. The sky is always dark, and the plants glow like neon signs. You can not see what I see, but I can describe it to you. We’re going to have to work together, more closely than we ever have before.”

Blaine watched as Rachel gestured with her hands, a half-invented, quasi version of sign language. Having been her charades partner many times in the past, he smiled as a sense of great relief washed over him. This could work, he could understand Rachel when it was imperative, and she had reassured him that she too understood. 

Kurt clapped twice, and a pathway was summoned, rising from the earth beneath their feet. It was a mosaic of blue smooth stones and glass of various shades of blue and gray, undulating and swirling like stationary ocean waves. 

The walkway was cool against the pads of Rachel’s bare feet, relieved that she could safely navigate even in her impaired state. At least, she could prevent herself from walking blindly off the side of a mountain. For everything else, she would need to trust her brother in an even higher capacity. She would soon find out what blind trust truly is. 

Blaine took her hand to guide her as they set off along the road, led by Kurt, who was like a lantern drifting through the darkened woods. 

While they walked the winding path, Blaine and Rachel devised a means of communicating yes or no simply by Rachel squeezing Blaine’s hand once or twice. It helped ease their fears in the face of the unknown. 

“We’re here,” Kurt finally said, stopping in his tracks and turning toward Blaine. He gestured ahead toward a circle of trees whose bark appeared oddly glossy.

Upon closer examination, Blaine saw about a dozen or so other Blaine’s staring back at him from each tree’s silver bark. 

“Mirrors,” he breathed. 

It was like one of those mirror mazes, meant to disorient and conceal the door out. And as Blaine looked down, the pathway appeared to split in several directions through the trees, each leading toward a reflection of himself. 

But as he moved closer, he noticed that the reflections were younger versions of himself, scrawnier, more timid-looking, insecurities glaring through their drooping postures. 

It was hard for Blaine to recognize himself at an earlier point in his life, after the years of hard work and therapy he had put into moving past the traumas and bullying in his past. But he was now being forced to face that young boy, the closeted, terrified, confused boy, who wanted nothing more than to have it all cease.

Blaine felt his stomach clench, the pain of old wounds stinging him, all of the sudden feeling alone again, despite present company. 

“What is this place?” he asked after prolonged silence. 

“This is the Grove of Echoes,” Kurt said. 

“Why are we here?”

“Sometimes, in order to move forward, we must first look back.”

In a knee-jerk reaction, he scoffed. “I’ve already moved past this. What’s the use? This was years ago.”

“I beg to differ. In this ‘mirror world’ as you’ve described it, the atmosphere has been feeding off of your internal energy and showing what you’d rather not expose to the world. And seeing that there’s no sun in the sky, and we’re existing in a state of limbo where time is indiscernible, and the only color is derived from bioluminescent vegetation, I believe this is a sign to ‘move past this’.”

Pivoting and making eye contact with his reflections, Blaine began to feel claustrophobic, surrounded by ghosts of his misery with no way out. 

Blaine approached one of the trees, reaching out to touch the metallic bark, and suddenly he had the urge to smash the image he was seeing into a thousand pieces, the way he’d taken to a punching bag in the past to vent his anger. 

His hand had clenched into a fist at his side, and he caught himself before inflicting serious injury to his hand and arm. 

Rachel tugged him sharply toward her, her face contorted in pain. 

“Sorry!” Blaine said, realizing his grip had tightened on her fingers, and he released her hand. 

Rachel massaged her sore fingers, wondering what memory could have caused her brother to react so viscerally. He had stopped describing their surroundings once they’d halted, and she was feeling a heightened anxiety the longer they seemed to stay in one place. 

Now that he had caused collateral damage and hurt his sister, Blaine began to feel guilty, for ever having those negative feelings and for having them again now. Because for as alone as he had felt, Rachel’s hand in his reminded him that she’d been there all along. 

When Blaine was thirteen, he’d developed feelings for his best friend from childhood. He’d been so close to telling him just before his friend’s dad lost his job and he moved away and began attending a different school. 

While it had felt like a convenient out at the time, it took Blaine another two long years of battling with himself, which he almost didn’t survive, to break himself out of the closet and come out to his family. Now, being confronted with his past self, he felt as if he had unfinished business. He wondered where Sam Evans was now. 

The other boys in school were intrigued by the awkward, withdrawn, nerdy boy who would rather spend his time studying or in the music room for choir, and in drama club rather than playing sports or talking about girls, and they acted on this intrigue by following him home one day and beating the shit out of him. 

He spent the next two weeks refusing to go to school. If it had been up to him, he never would have gone back. Or at least he would have transferred to another school. 

With all the extracurriculars he and his sister were involved in, his parents couldn’t afford to send him somewhere else, despite how much he fought them, and Rachel gave him undue grief about leaving her all alone. 

Blaine wasn’t sure how those boys knew he was gay, but he blamed himself for being too obvious. When he did return to school, he tried to make himself as invisible as possible, throwing himself into his schoolwork and avoiding all areas of the school and town where his peers gathered. 

His self-imposed isolation brought him and Rachel closer. They had always been inseparable for the most part, but he noticed that she began to spend a lot more time at home when he was holed up in his room. And Rachel always had excuses to enter his room, whether it be to share a snack or to tell him something silly she had read online. 

It suddenly dawned on Blaine that perhaps Rachel knew what was really happening with him all along. 

Her constant pestering and pushing him to join more activities with her is what eventually pulled him out of his depression and made sure that he didn’t kill himself. 

She helped him see that there was something to look forward to and that his light at the end of the tunnel was actually a spotlight on a stage, a safe space where he never had to be invisible again. 

Maybe, he thought, the sun _was_ in the sky, it was just blocked out by the dense umbrella of tree branches. All of what was in the grove was an illusion, and he had broken free from the lies his depressed mind had been telling him before. All he needed now was a way to let the light in. 

“It’s time to continue,” Kurt said. 

Blaine looked up from his musings. “The pathway is still split. There’s no way out of here.”

“You once believed that when you spent your days sheltering your true self from the world. Look again,” Kurt urged, “and remember that moving forward isn’t always a straight line.” 

Blaine screwed up his face in concentration, running his fingers over the trees’ surfaces as if he might discover some sort of hinge or a button or lever that would reveal a hidden passageway. It was when he took a step back that he saw the way the mosaic road was not stretching straight through the mirror but climbing upward into the branches. 

“Higher ground,” he said to himself, unable to hear Rachel break into a brief rendition of the Stevie Wonder hit in response. Blaine silenced her, “Up. We need to go up!”

Rachel’s pulse quickened when Blaine grabbed her hand again to lead her toward the tree with the lowest branches.

“I got myself out of darkness before, and I sure as hell am going to climb out of it again,” Blaine mumbled, testing the first branch before pulling himself upward. “I need you to climb. Slow and steady, Rachel,” he told her. “If you take it slow, I can guide you.” 

Forgetting she was barefoot, Rachel pulled herself up. A sharp intense pain shot through her foot and she cried out when she missed the foothold and her foot slid across what felt like metal.

Blood streaked the silver bark, dripping steadily, staining the mosaic.

Blaine caught Rachel under her arms and pulled her up to the next branch, the sight of her blood turning his stomach. 

It felt as if her foot had been cleaved in two, the pain heightened by her increased awareness of her sense of touch. 

The cut wasn’t deep but Blaine knew he needed to apply pressure to stem the bleeding. 

“Dammit,” he swore, realizing the first aid kit was left behind in his backpack. Quick on his feet, he tore off the sleeve of his shirt and wrapped it tightly, tying it off so it wouldn’t budge. 

Rachel mouthed and signed a thank you, and Blaine nodded.

Cautiously and with much patience, they scaled the tree together.

With one final heave and a drawn-out groan, Blaine helped Rachel up through the crown of the tree, exhaling audibly and eyes falling closed as the warmth of the streaming sunlight hit his skin, 

Blaine breathed in deeply again, eyes opening to see that he and Rachel were now on solid ground, perched high atop a mountain. 

And there was color, in the green grass and the brilliant wildflowers that dotted the landscape. 

When Rachel felt the cool, stone and glass road beneath her feet again, she almost cried tears of joy, practically collapsing to sit, her face turned up like a sunflower toward the warmth that could only be sunlight. 

Perhaps Blaine was getting ahead of himself for wanting to celebrate their first victory, because when he followed the path with his eyes, it suddenly ended, dropping off a cliff side. 

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath. 

It was like something out of a Shel Silverstein book, and this could very well be where the sidewalk ended for him.

The start of university was looming in the not so distant future, set off only by the chasm that was summer vacation. Yet, it still felt surreal, that Blaine would be packing a few suitcases to spend the next four years across the pond when he’d never really seen much of the United States or spent much time away from family.

Hiking a section of the Appalachian Trail was meant to help ease the transition as well as some of the regret he’d been feeling for not being well-traveled. It was also a last-ditch effort to appease Rachel by spending some one-on-one time with her, while also proving to himself that he would be able to go off on his own without needing to rely on his dads or sister. 

But his journey seemed to be coming to an abrupt end.

All there was was open space that stretched out for miles. He’d never seen the Grand Canyon, but he imagined it would look something like this, and that he’d feel as small and insignificant as he did gazing out over the edge. 

“Don’t worry,” Kurt spoke from behind Blaine. “You’re far from the end. Hope is a fickle friend.”

“But there’s no way to keep going -“

“Look again.”

Blaine startled at the sight of a suspension bridge that stretched across the valley that seemed to disappear into low-hanging clouds over the distant mountaintops. 

Unlike those rickety, rotting bridges from movies that always found a way to dramatically fall apart as the characters were crossing, it appeared sturdy and safe, the wood of which it was composed as if it had been freshly hewn, each plank fastened together by intricately knotted rope. 

“We need to cross a bridge, Rachel,” he informed her. “Just hold on to the rope rails, and you should be fine.”

He guided his sister toward the bridge, helping her take hold of the ropes that ran parallel across the gap. 

Blaine steeled himself. He was terrified of heights.

Slightly envious that his sister could not see just how high up they were or that where the bridge led was unclear, he took the first steps.

Blaine hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he exhaled, daring a glance downward. The bridge swayed gently, side to side as their weight shifted it with each step. 

He looked up again, squinting forward into fog that drifted across their path.

After what felt like an hour of careful trekking, guiding Rachel and watching his every footstep, Blaine looked up and caught sight of a human-like figure outlined in the mist. 

It didn’t strike him as odd at first, expecting it to be Kurt awaiting their arrival, but as they drew closer, he could see a female-figure with grayish skin, long, blond tresses, clothed in a stiff-looking gown the color of earth and furrowed like ironbark, and out of bare shoulder blades grew skeletal flowering branches resembling wings. 

She moved, climbing up onto the side of the bridge, sending it swaying. Rachel cried out, and both tightened their clutch on the ropes. 

Balanced precariously on the ropes, the creature looked as if she were about to plummet into the depths below.

“Stand as still as possible,” Blaine told Rachel.

His voice carried across the air, and the creature’s head snapped to the side, her expression turning to delight at the sight of the twins. 

Blaine thought he saw a tinge of hunger in her gaze as her mouth began to move soundlessly.

“Oh! How fortuitous!” she squealed, causing Rachel’s blood to freeze over. 

The voice was caught somewhere between pleasant and harrowing, and she drew a deep breath, wanting desperately to know what Blaine was seeing. 

But Rachel was no amateur when it came to fairy tales. She allowed her memories of childhood story books to fill in the blanks as she stood there suspended on the bridge. The creatures that guarded bridges were usually trolls. 

“Troll,” she thought aloud. 

The creature’s face fell. “That’s not a very nice thing to call someone, now is it?”

“I’m s-sorry -” Rachel stammered, but was interrupted by a shrill giggle.

“You humans are so gullible sometimes.” She paused, sniffing the air. “Blood?”

Rachel felt a twinge in her foot and a wave of prickling heat coursed through her body. 

“I can smell your fear. Can you not see me? I’m not some night walking parasite.” She pouted. 

“I can’t see you,” Rachel admitted, feeling uncertain of whether it was wise to tell the creature of a vulnerability when it was already aware of her injury. 

“I am a troll, as you suspected.” She shifted, hopping down from the ropes and sending the bridge swaying again. “And this,” she gestured, “is my bridge.” 

Rachel patted her empty pockets. “We don’t have anything to give you,” she said. “What is your toll?”

The troll let out another shrill laugh. “I don’t collect _things_.” 

Rachel swallowed hard. “You’ll let us pass then?” 

“Oh, no, of course not,” she said. “Just because I’m not a hoarder, and gold and treasure mean nothing to me, doesn’t mean I don’t desire something. I like to collect the intangible. Words. Stories. Voices.”

Rachel clutched her throat out of reflex, hoping this troll wasn’t akin to Ursula. 

“I want you to answer three questions.” Her finger was outstretched toward Blaine. “What’s with your travel companion? Can he talk?”

Rachel nodded. “He can’t hear you.”

“How unfortunate for you two,” she clucked, “because when I said I want _you_ to answer, I meant him.” Her mouth stretched in a toothy, wily grin. 

“What’s going on?” Blaine said warily, turning to Rachel. “What does she want?”

“He _can_ talk!”

“How is he going to answer questions he can’t hear you ask?” Rachel said. “Why not me?”

“You’re not the one I’m here to collect from. Besides, it’s more fun this way,” the troll added. 

Rachel grabbed at the air in front of her until she got a fistful of Blaine’s shirt, tugging him toward her. Finding his hand, Rachel turned his palm skyward and pressed the tip of her index finger to the sensitive skin there. 

As if painting a picture, she made careful strokes and held up three fingers, telling Blaine of the three questions he must answer. 

He closed his hand around hers. “I understand.”

“Ask your first question, _troll_ ,” Rachel said. 

The troll maiden quirked an eyebrow at Rachel and crossed her arms. “It would be such a pity to see you hurt another limb. Call me by my name, human. Quinn.”

“Quinn…” Rachel began, “Go ahead. Ask your questions.”

Quinn licked her lips and her eyes grew suddenly dark, her mouth curling into another grin that made Blaine uneasy. 

“Where did you come from?”

Rachel gestured and signed what she could, hoping to steer Blaine in the right direction toward his answer. 

Blaine watched Rachel point and sign ‘yesterday’, and his immediate thought was to answer how they got there from the Appalachian Trail, but it couldn’t possibly be that simple. Hesitating, Blaine watched Rachel, attempting to read her lips as best he could. 

“Ohio,” Blaine began to answer slowly. “A dark, lonely, closet. Pain,” he added, his voice quivering. “I came from misunderstood love in earnest.”

“Lovely.” The troll stood her ground, somehow broader on the narrow passageway. “Not exactly a poet, but the boy speaks as pretty as he looks.”

Nervous, Rachel wondered if Blaine’s answer was good enough, not knowing what it truly was the troll was after. 

“Next question…?” Rachel said, hoping what they’d supplied was sufficient enough to move forward. 

“Where are you now?”

Rachel translated via gestures and signing, tapping and tracing letters and thoughts on Blaine’s skin, as her lips moved with each deliberate word. 

Blaine took a deep breath, slowly surveying his immediate surroundings. Where was he? He spoke as the thoughts tumbled across his mind. 

“A bridge. A transition. Uncertainty. Held hostage by the unknown...and fear of failure.”

“Your travel companion seems to have something weighing on him,” Quinn said, pursing her lips. “He speaks of darkness, yet you’re the one who sees only shadow. He speaks of fear, yet you’re the one he has led with inexhaustible courage through the darkness and over the edge. I suppose it’s time for my third and final question.”

Rachel’s heart thumped hard in her chest. “Ask it.”

“Where are you going?”

A deafening silence ensued as Rachel faltered, distracted by her own heightened fears. Sure, she teased and argued with Blaine about choosing to go abroad for college, but what she didn’t want to admit was that she was scared of what might become of her brother once he no longer had a hand to hold. 

Sometimes epiphanies come like earthquakes and thunderstorms that shake the very core of a person, completely rearranging reality and resetting routine. 

Blaine had been leading Rachel all along. 

Aware of his strengths yet still so unaware of how strong he could be. He had weathered so much more than she could ever imagine, and he had made difficult choices in order to lead them toward whatever it was that he deeply believed was at the end of all things - perhaps, hope?

It was her hand that needed another, not her brother’s. 

Blaine’s convictions were strong, and Rachel knew that it was time to hand over the baton and allow herself to be vulnerable and uncertain. To trust that Blaine would flourish and thrive in the future he had chosen for himself. 

And after she had translated the final question, a heart-stopping silence followed. 

Blaine’s hand fell away from hers, and cool wind whooshed by, nearly sending her to her knees as she caught the rope to her left to steady herself. 

Rachel wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but she suddenly began to smell water, strong and almost foul like a tannic lake or swamp. Terror gripped her once again as she flashed back to the memory of the dark spring. 

“What did I do wrong?” Blaine cried out. “Did I wait too long to answer?” 

The troll’s fingers beckoned like spindly spider legs dancing through the air, as if attempting to pull the words from his throat, tugging like an invisible thread had joined her fingertips to Blaine’s vocal chords. 

Out sprang an involuntary utterance of, “Oh, God -” and Blaine was rocked hard, falling forward into the wooden planks of the bridge as the world around him began to morph. 

The suspension bridge began to undulate like a snake caught in the beak of a hawk. His stomach churned violently as the bridge dropped like an elevator whose cables had snapped, the ground below them now turbulent, murky waters, impossible to tell how deep or wide. 

The water lapped at the base of the bridge, sloshing against Rachel’s ankles and rolling over her feet. It was chillingly cold, like the ocean in early spring. 

The wooden planks began to rumble like a distant thunder was rolling over them, the rhythmic quake soon becoming the unmistakable clip-clopping of hooves on the rigid pathway. 

Rachel braced herself, fearing she was either about to be trampled or thrown into the water below. 

Blaine whipped around to find the cause of the disturbance in the bridge, grabbing his sister and pulling her to him at the sight of a large figure rapidly approaching, 

He immediately recognized the large half-man half-horse creature as a centaur.

There was a large splash as the troll maiden dove into the dark water, vanishing amongst the waves. 

“What’s going on?” Rachel said, a note of panic in her voice. 

“Rach, there’s a -”

The centaur skidded to a halt mere feet away from the twins who were now huddled together, clutching on to each other for dear life. 

“There’s no time to waste,” it spoke quickly. “This bridge is sinking, and unless you’re merpeople masquerading as humans, I would climb on.” 

The centaur kneeled, gesturing toward his broad back. 

“I think he wants us to climb on his back,” Blaine informed Rachel. “Or we might drown.” 

Rachel heard a man’s voice, her mind conjuring the romantic image of a knight on his steed coming to the rescue, but Blaine’s words jarred her imagination, realizing that this was no ordinary man on a horse. 

The water was swiftly swallowing up the bridge beneath them, unable to bear the weight of its occupants. 

Blaine guided Rachel’s hands and feet until she was awkwardly straddling the horse-like hindquarters, and then clambered on, his arms swinging forward to wrap firmly around the creature’s waist just before he tore off across the boards, hitting the water like a large craft. 

Water sprayed the twins, causing them to close their eyes and hold their breath, but when they didn’t go under, except to their thighs, there was a simultaneous exhalation. 

Blaine opened his eyes, suddenly embarrassed of his hand placement on the centaur’s sculpted abdomen, and he readjusted himself to where he was holding on to his shoulders. Sweaty palms caused his hands to keep slipping down to large, toned biceps, and he found himself apologizing profusely - or so he thought that’s what had left his mouth. 

“I’m sorry -?” The centaur said, his brow furrowing at the gibberish that escaped his male rider’s mouth. “Are you having a stroke?”

“He can’t hear you,” Rachel explained. “He can’t even hear himself. He’s deaf, and I’m blind.” 

The centaur was quiet as he kicked his strong legs to swim against the current in the open waters, bobbing and drifting like an untethered island with two castaways. 

His destination was unapparent, as the fog that had veiled the mountains now hung low, swirling and dancing above the surface of the waves. 

“Who are you, and where are you taking us?” Rachel finally asked. 

“Ah, of course. Where are my manners,” the centaur said. “I am Sebastian. I’m carrying you to shore. Where exactly that is or how long it will take to get there are questions I cannot answer.”

“How did you know we were on the bridge and that it was collapsing?” Rachel prodded, growing weary and impatient. 

“Call it serendipity, if you will.”

“Did Kurt send you?”

The centaur grew stiff at the mention of the name, momentarily allowing the current to carry him before kicking his legs again to tread the water and propel them forward. 

Rachel felt the shift in the centaur’s demeanor and movement. “You know who Kurt is?”

“If you’re referring to that impudent Naiad, then yes.”

Rachel could tell she had hit a nerve and by no means had any intention of pissing off their savior, but she couldn’t help but prod. After all, an enemy of her enemy was her friend. 

“He tried to kill me,” Rachel said solemnly.

“He’s not known to favor young women.”

“What _is_ he known for?”

Something like laughter hit Rachel’s ears, and she began to think she might regret asking.

“If you were alive for centuries, you would eventually get bored and prey on mortals. And humans _are_ the most fun. Yet, his choice of diversion includes luring young, beautiful men and taking them on a ‘spiritual’ journey.”

“You sound like a scorned lover,” Rachel said before she could catch herself. 

The centaur snorted. “ _Please_! Lesser gods, especially naiads, are of no interest to me. But I’ll admit, I also have an affinity for humans, especially the young and beautiful ones.”

“Are you taking us hostage?”

“You’re awfully accusatory for someone completely at the mercy of a stranger. No. If I wanted you to suffer, then I would have already dropped you into the water. You’re a burden of which I’m feeling generous enough to bear.” 

“I’m sorry,” Rachel said. 

“I’m bored,” Sebastian said. “You must have something to offer? Humans are known to be great bards.”

Rachel lit up. “Oh, like a story or a song?” 

“Music is a rare type of magic in this realm.”

Shying away from a performance was never Rachel’s style, even if it was only for an audience of one. She wasn’t entirely sure what prompted her song choice or why these particular lyrics had been floating around in her mind, but she began to sing. It flowed out of her so naturally, like electricity through a closed circuit, as it always had. 

_“Happiness, hit her like a train on a track_

_Coming towards her, stuck still no turning back_

_She hid around corners and she hid under beds_

_She killed it with kisses and from it she fled_

_With every bubble she sank with a drink_

_And washed it away down the kitchen sink_

_The dog days are over_

_The dog days are done_

_The horses are coming so you better run_

_Run fast for your mother run fast for your father_

_Run for your children for your sisters and brothers_

_Leave all your love and your longing behind you_

_Can't carry it with you if you want to survive_

_The dog days are over_

_The dog days are done_

_Can't you hear the horses_

_'Cause here they come”_

Blaine couldn’t believe his eyes as he took in the wondrous display before him. It was as if the vibrations of Rachel’s voice had parted the clouds, allowing sunlight to slice through the heavy fog and mist, producing a rainbow that painted the dreary sky with its proud, hopeful hues. 

The sun bathed Rachel in its gentle golden heat, her eyes falling closed.

For the moment, she felt at peace, her body, mind, and heart in perfect harmony. 

Not seeing, not speaking, just being.

“Land!” Blaine shouted, snapping Rachel out of her reverie.

It was an immense relief to see that they would soon be able to set foot once again on solid ground. 

“Bashful _and_ eager,” Sebastian jested. “Parting with this one will be such sweet sorrow.”

Feeling her face grow flush, Rachel couldn’t contain a snicker, grateful only then that Blaine could not hear. 

“Thank you, for your gift of song,” Sebastian said, his tone suddenly solemn. “I’ve not heard such a voice since…” he trailed off, pausing thoughtfully. “If I didn’t know better, I would believe you were the daughter of a Muse.” 

Before Rachel could summon a response, they had reached the shore. With a quiet groan, the centaur carried their weight onto the sandy bank, kneeling to eject his passengers. As the twins slid to the ground, Kurt seemed to materialize a few feet ahead.

The naiad was poised on a rock, not unlike the one he had sat upon when they’d first encountered him by the waterfall. But what they saw before them was only an expanse of beach that rose on an incline up a mountainside. 

Slowly, Kurt began to clap, rising to his feet.

“Congratulations are in order,” he spoke, though his mouth remained closed. 

“That’s it?” Blaine said, feeling overwhelmed as tears welled in his eyes. “It’s over?”

“Endings provide space for new beginnings.” His lips curled into a smirk. 

Blaine was growing frustrated, tired of the riddles and now physically overwhelmed with exhaustion. It was impossible to tell how long he and Rachel had gone without sleeping. Or eating. In fact, it felt as if all their human faculties had been in limbo while they navigated this spirit realm. Dreams were like that, but there was no way that they had hallucinated or dreamt up this entire journey. It was too real. 

If they had reached the end of the journey, then why was there no door out? No lake or spring or stream or waterfall? Blaine grew angry as he turned their current situation over in his head. He had expected some form of clarity, to be able to hear again, for Rachel to see again.

Nothing had changed. 

“Rachel,” Blaine murmured, becoming choked up with emotion, “I’ll never hear music again.”

“I’ll never see another musical or read another script,” Rachel said. “This isn’t fair. None of this is fair.”

Blaine turned only to see that Sebastian had vanished and so had the lake. And the beach. Gaze returning to the mountainside, Kurt was nowhere to be found, and his eyes were met with a field encircled by trees.

Somehow it felt as if they were back in the mountains of Pennsylvania; everything seemed normal, the colors, the sunlight, the plants and trees, and most importantly the absence of supernatural creatures they had encountered along the way. 

Then why did it all feel so different? Why had what Kurt had done to them not worn off or reversed? 

“What was it all for?” Blaine hung his head and ran his fingers through his hair. He felt the heat in his face turn to tears in his eyes as he opened his mouth and let out the most pitiful howl that tapered off into a whimper.

Rachel couldn’t bear to hear her brother in so much pain, especially after all they had been through together. 

Although the journey had felt dreamlike, where time did not exist, hunger was at bay, yet they could feel pain, both physical and mental, their bodies had never needed rest. 

Until now, when it all was catching up to them like a crushing sandstorm rolling in to bury them under its immense weight and breadth. 

They were so very tired. 

Blaine could see the exhaustion in every part of Rachel’s being, in her posture, the glazed over look in her eyes and absent expression, and he felt the weight of his own eyelids fluttering shut as his arms and legs felt as if they’d turned to stone, anchoring him to the ground. 

Not far from where they stood was a clearing with a patch of full, brilliant, golden dandelions growing in soft, springy, lush grass. It looked inviting, and Blaine had the urge to lay down in it and give in to sleep. 

“Blaine!” Rachel called out, taking hold of his arm to pull him back. 

“The flowers...I’m so tired.”

“But the sun feels too hot,” she gestured as she spoke. “We should find shade so we don’t end up with sunburn.” 

“The trees…?” Blaine pointed toward the edge of the field where it met the woods. 

Rachel nodded. She knew she wouldn’t make it very far, but the sun was beginning to feel like lava on her skin.

Blaine knew he hadn’t much energy left, and the sunlight was making him even more drowsy and willing to succumb rather than drag himself any farther. 

* * *

—> [They lay down in the sunny dandelion patch.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109382/chapters/63574636#workskin)

OR

—> [They attempt to continue in search of shade to rest.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109748/chapters/63574774#workskin)


	7. Chapter 7

“I can’t go on any further,” Rachel admitted, despite the harsh heat. Her clothes were damp, her feet were bare, and it occurred to her that whatever state she was currently in couldn’t be much worse than how she was feeling. 

“Right here,” Blaine directed. 

The twins eased themselves onto the ground, almost instantly feeling the world around them slipping away as they slumped over into a sound, carefree slumber.

Blaine roused to the sounds of birdsong and the gentle whistle and rustle of a breeze through the leaves of nearby trees. 

Rachel blinked her eyes open, wanting to immediately close them again, the blaring sunlight causing her sensitive eyes to tear. She squinted as they adjusted and the world around her came into focus. 

But the sun wasn’t to blame for the tears that hit her eyes. 

To see color again, shapes, life, the earth shifting and movement…

“Blaine…?” her voice cracked, though it contained hope. 

When her brother turned at the mention of his name and their watery eyes met, it brought on a new wave of joyful tears, and they embraced.

After letting go, they looked each other up and down. Both appeared as if they’d been to hell and back, their muddy tattered and torn clothes, Rachel’s bare feet, caked with dust and dirt and grass-stained, their hair looking like the end of a long day on the beach in the saltwater of the ocean followed by whipping evening winds. 

And then laughter filled the air. 

“I can’t believe it,” Rachel said, catching her breath. 

“We’re alive,” Blaine sighed. 

Rachel’s feet were sore, though she barely felt the cut now. Kneeling, she peeled back the makeshift bandage, gasping at the sight of the wound. It wasn’t raw or red, but pale and raised like scar tissue. 

“My foot is healed,” Rachel said, running her fingers over the ridged skin. 

“That’s...incredible.” Blaine couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

“I’m going to need some shoes,” Rachel declared after a brief pause. 

“Then we’re going to need to find a store,” Blaine said with a laugh. 

“So, then we’re in agreement that our backpacking trip is over?”

“Absolutely, no question.” Blaine didn’t hesitate for even a second. 

“Good! I can’t take it anymore! What the hell was I even thinking?! What were we thinking?” Rachel massaged her foot, using Blaine to keep her balance. “I hope you know where we should go from here.”

Blaine nodded. “Since the beginning of time, people have known that we need water. So, if we’re trying to get back to civilization, we need to follow where that river goes.” Blaine pointed. “C’mon. I need a real bed to sleep in. And a shower.”

“And a warm meal,” Rachel added. 

“You never know what you have until you ‘yeet’ it off a mountain, right?” Blaine jested. 

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Just go. You know I’ll be close behind.”

From where they stood, they could see the Schuylkill River, winding around the hills, but no sign of other humans besides the electrical lines strung and stretched high over the mountaintops. 

Once they had reached the steep banks, they hiked along the waterway until a town came into view in the distance. Reenergized by adrenaline, the twins picked up their pace. 

The ‘Welcome to Historic Hamburg’ sign was a beacon to the weary travelers. 

Being surrounded by civilization again made the hike through the town feel less strenuous, although Rachel’s feet were beginning to grow raw from the pavement, and she was certain that she’d received more than a couple pitying looks from passersby who probably thought she was homeless. 

Of all the things they’d left behind, both were grateful that Blaine still had his wallet tucked safely away inside his shirt. 

When they’d reached Fourth St and realized that the “no shoes, no service” signs currently applied to them, Blaine stepped inside a boutique and grabbed the first pair of flip flops he could find in Rachel’s size just so she would be permitted into any establishment.

Located between a homemade soap shop and a small theater in the center of town, the twins stumbled upon a coffee shop with the words Four Twelve boldly displayed on its front window. 

God, coffee would be such a luxury and return to comfort and routine for Blaine, so he led the way in. 

Rachel grabbed a table as Blaine got in the thankfully short line. Looking at the menu proved difficult when the man behind the counter caught his eye and held his attention. 

Blaine blinked hard, disbelieving what he was seeing. 

It was the Naiad from the spring, only it wasn’t. He had the same face, the same piercing eyes, the same broad, slightly upturned nose, but his hair was shorter and coiffed in the front, his skin tone was still pale, but slightly sunkissed as was usual for the season, and his body, although covered up by his uniform, was tall and slender, yet toned through his tight-fitting shirt. And when he turned around to make another customer's coffee order, that ass was unmistakable, hardly hidden beneath the thin fabric of his pants. 

“Kurt,” Blaine breathed.

The man wore an odd expression and then gently shook his head, pointing to the name tag on his left breast. “That’s my name. What can I get for you today?”

“Just a- a medium drip, please. Make that two, actually, with a flavor shot of caramel in the one. And, um…” Blaine glanced at the menu. “Two of the avocado, egg, and cheese waffle sandwiches. Hold the egg on one, please.”

“Coming right up, sir,” he said with a smile. “Can I get a name for the order?”

Blaine paused, his brow furrowing. “You don’t remember me?”

“I’m sorry, sir. We get a lot of people through here, and I’m not always good with names. Faces, usually, but I don’t remember seeing you in here before.” Kurt looked sincerely baffled and apologetic.

“It’s Blaine,” he said, taking his receipt when it was handed to him. “Thank you. I’ll just, uh -“ he gestured toward the table where Rachel was seated, “wait over there then.”

There was a ringing in Blaine’s ears as he walked slowly toward his sister. He felt the very foundation of his reality crumbling at the thought of Kurt not recognizing him after all that he’d put him through. 

There was no way that what they’d experienced was just some mass hallucination. They had shared memories. Rachel even had a scar to prove it, didn’t she? 

When Blaine turned around, it was as if Rachel had read his mind. She was examining her foot, her eyes focused and brow furrowed.

“It’s gone,” she said, once Blaine took his seat across from her. “I felt it, Blaine. It was real. But now it feels like I’ve dreamt the entire thing.” 

“It was real, Rach. But there’s something that doesn’t make any sense. Don’t be obvious, but look at the employee at the counter.”

Rachel peered past Blaine, briefly locking eyes with the man at the counter before looking away in embarrassment. Then she did a double take, her jaw dropping. “That’s _him_.”

She started to get up, but Blaine stopped her. “Well, that’s what I thought too. It’s not him. At least, I don’t think it could be, considering he doesn’t know who we are.” 

“Blaine!” a female voice called out, and he stood up to retrieve their food and drink order. 

Kurt was no longer at the counter. In his place was a young woman with wavy auburn hair and those chunky hipster-style glasses. 

Hunger made Blaine momentarily indifferent to Kurt’s sudden absence, and he and Rachel sat for a while and savored every bite of their unusual yet delicious sandwiches, topping off the refueling of their bodies with some of the best coffee they’d ever tasted. 

Perhaps it was the deprivation of simple pleasures that made them appreciate what they now had so much more. 

“Rach,” Blaine finally spoke after they’d sat there in silence, their mouths too busy with a more pertinent activity, “I’m actually really...grateful for what we experienced.”

“I’m grateful we survived.”

“Exactly. But I think what happened was exactly what we needed, ya know? We kept trying to prove something to each other, but for what?”

“I think we proved that no matter what life throws at us, we’ll weather it together — even if we’re physically apart.” Rachel was quiet for a beat. “You know that no matter where you are, if you need me, I’ll come running, right?”

“Of course, Rachel.”

“It’s just — I never really planned for you to...not need me. And you’re just going to be...gone. Any chance you might change your mind?” 

Blaine was unsure of how he felt about Rachel’s perceived codependence. He decided to shrug it off, knowing that his sister needed to feel important. But, no, there was no chance of him changing his college plans. At least, not as long as he was in control. 

However, even with all the survival skills under his belt from camping with his Boy Scouts troop, Blaine was finding that self-sufficiency and independence is not marred or devalued by needing or accepting the help of others. After all, humans are meant to be interdependent and connected physically and emotionally, and it wasn’t a sign of weakness to not always know the answer and to not be able to help oneself. 

“Who really knows where they’re going?” Blaine began to think aloud. His eyes were downcast as he spoke. “Even the best laid plans can be derailed when the universe has other plans. Sometimes an ending is nothing more than an exhalation before taking another breath.”

“Wow, Blaine. You're getting deep on me.”

“I guess an existential crisis will do that to you,” he said, though he felt as if his words had not been solely his own. 

Rachel’s eyes fluttered, and her head dipped. Despite the jolt of caffeine, she was still ready for a full night’s sleep. 

“Let’s get ourselves a hotel room,” Blaine said through a yawn, escorting his sister out of the cafe. 

But as they crossed the threshold, the world around Blaine flashed and for a few seconds he felt as if he had returned to the other realm. The coffee shop looked strange, the atmosphere suddenly heavy and warped like a salvia trip. He turned back toward the counter area only to see the Naiad staring directly back at him, dressed only in a knowing smirk. 

Before he could call out to him, the room flashed around him again, and he was transported back. He swung the door back open, frantically scanning the shop for Kurt, but to no avail. He had once again vanished. 

Blaine could not find the words to express to Rachel what he had experienced. It was obvious that it was something they had not shared. 

That evening, he laid awake in his rented bed, tortured by the events of the evening. When his mind finally calmed enough to fall asleep, it had been to thoughts of the shooting star and the fantastic journey that left him feeling as if he could never go back to feeling normal. 

And there he was again.

Blaine could see him so clearly, in his mind’s eye. As he drifted in and out of REM sleep, he realized he wasn’t dreaming at all and that he hadn’t ever fallen asleep. 

“Kurt…” he whispered, sitting up in bed. “Is it really you this time?”

“It is.” 

Blaine rose to his feet and took a few steps toward the alluring creature. 

“I’m still in my hotel room, aren’t I?”

“You are.”

“Then I can see your world. Why?”

“I don’t have that answer,” Kurt said. “Your ability to see past the veil into my world while remaining in your own is unprecedented.”

“But you’re...happy,” Blaine proffered, attempting time read Kurt’s expression.

“You can see right through me,” he said with a bashful bow of his head. 

Blaine didn’t want to hold back any longer, feeling the tug of Kurt’s spell like a tightly coiling wire, pulling them closer and closer until…

Kurt’s hand flew up to catch Blaine’s, stopping him before their mouths could meet. 

Blaine’s eyes grew wide and questioning. 

“It’s not time yet.”

And then Blaine was surrounded by the mundanity of the roadside hotel room, the covers on the bed left pulled back. 

Overwhelmed with disappointment, he climbed back beneath the covers and drifted in and out of a light sleep until early morning. 

Blaine was jolted awake by Rachel’s shrill scream, and he leaped out of bed, his body entering fight mode. 

The door of the hotel room was wide open, swinging gently on its hinges despite its weight and the absence of a breeze.

Rachel continued to shriek, sitting up in her bed with the covers pulled up to her chin. 

It felt almost as if they were both paralyzed, unable to approach the doorway to close it. They were exposed, not knowing what or who was responsible for opening their hotel.

A dozen horrible thoughts and fears invaded Blaine’s mind, suddenly wondering if someone was currently inside the room with them. His heart raced as his eyes darted wildly to every spot visible from where he stood.

“Did you see something?” he asked her in a hushed voice.

She gulped and shook her head. 

Blaine wanted to close the door, yet he felt oddly compelled to grab his belongings in his pack and walk through the open door. 

Danger still felt imminent, yet his curiosity felt stronger. 

Nothing made sense anymore. 

* * *

→ [Blaine closes the door.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109382/chapters/63574987)

OR 

→ [Blaine grabs his pack and walks outside.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109382/chapters/63575272)


	8. Chapter 8

Blaine and Rachel never did find out what had happened in their hotel room to cause their door to open.

Once Blaine had closed the door, it locked securely, once again sheltering the twins from the outside world. There had been no signs of forced entry or anything in the room being disturbed, and when they checked out shortly after, they were just glad to finally be returning home. 

Blaine had agonized over what to pack and what to leave home, knowing that he could only realistically bring so much on a plane. Worst case scenario, he could have his dads ship his belongings to him, though he wasn’t sure how long they might take to arrive in London. 

It didn’t fully dawn on him until he was storing his carry-on away in the overhead compartment and settling down into his particularly chosen window seat. 

He was going to be living in England for the next four years. 

When he and Rachel had hugged each other goodbye at the airport, it felt as if they’d stood there for an eternity. 

Blaine closed his eyes and took steadying breaths. He was anxious, but his excitement about going to such a prestigious school along with the unknown that lie ahead made him giddy, and he smiled to himself.

He felt the presence of another person take the seat beside him, and he opened his eyes. 

“Impossible,” he muttered under his breath. Blaine shook his head as if it would make the person disappear.

“Pardon?” 

“You can’t possibly be here.”

The young man quirked an eyebrow, slowly leaned forward, and unclasped his messenger bag. With a flourish, he waved his ticket in the air, pointing to the seat number so Blaine could see it.

How many times was this going to happen to him? It was maddening. 

“I’m sorry — l didn’t mean -”

The young man chuckled. “It’s okay. Let’s start over.” He held his hand out in greeting. 

Blaine took it.

“Kurt Hummel.”

“Blaine -” he hesitated, “Anderson. Just Anderson.”

Kurt laughed again. “Okay, Blaine Just Anderson. It’s nice to meet you. Where are you headed?”

“The Royal Academy of Music.”

Kurt’s eyebrows rose. “What a coincidence. Me too.”

Blaine’s vision flashed and shook like an old damaged film reel. 

The plane lifted off. 

Blaine exhaled. 

  
  


**THE END**


	9. Chapter 9

Blaine crossed the threshold, backpack in hand, his eyes falling immediately on two empty desks and beds. 

He had been the first to arrive, or so it seemed, and he now had the difficult decision to make of choosing his bed, the one that would become his designated bed for at least two semesters. 

But as he sat on the sagging bare mattress on its frame situated by the window, he realized that the closet was slightly ajar, its contents revealing that he had in fact not arrived first. 

The shower had been running, and Blaine made his bed and sat on it, opening his phone to FaceTime Rachel until the water turned off. Several minutes later, after the loud hum of a blow dryer, spritzing of hairspray, and various other sounds and perfumes escaped the bathroom, the door finally opened, startling him. He turned to see his new high-maintenance roommate, the one he’d been anxiously waiting to meet. 

He jumped up and nearly shouted, but caught himself. 

Kurt was taken aback at Blaine’s reaction, but his expression softened, clear recognition dancing in his eyes. 

Kurt stood there confidently on display, dressed head to toe in Burberry and looking like an international supermodel, almost godlike in posture, his aura positively glowing. 

Blaine rose to his feet, his phone slipping from his fingers and dropping to the floor. 

“Oh,” Blaine breathed, “There you are -“

Blaine was shut up with a kiss, his lips locking with Kurt’s, gingerly at first, but soon growing hungry with what felt like a craving met after years of longing. 

Blaine’s eyes fell shut, and images from his journey flashed in his head, feeling as if they were memories from a distant past, as if from another lifetime.

As he pulled away, Blaine chased his lips, but Kurt pressed a finger against Blaine’s to keep him from speaking, gently coaxing him back.

Blaine searched his face for an answer, but Kurt said nothing.

In a soft, soothing tone, he began to hum the opening melody of a song that was familiar to Blaine, though it took a moment for it to register, his eyes now alight. 

And then Kurt sang one resounding lyric. 

_ “You were only waiting for this moment to arise...” _

Outside the window, a swirling cloud of feathers appeared as a dozen birds took flight, scattering into the midday sunlight, stirring up an air current that tugged dandelion seeds from their stems, sending them twirling skyward and adrift on the balmy late summer breeze, over the courtyard and toward St. Mary’s Rose Gardens. 

Off in the distance, Big Ben chimed its tune as if it had never fallen silent, resonating through the streets of London. And then it fell silent once more. 

**THE END**


End file.
